


Light kindles the hills

by Deputychairman



Series: God help us both if this is summer [3]
Category: due South
Genre: First Time, M/M, Post-Call of the Wild, they finally get somewhere with their pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deputychairman/pseuds/Deputychairman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay,” Fraser said. His eyes were very blue and his hair was all messed up, how had his hair gotten all messed up? Oh God that was me, Ray realised: that was me. I kissed him and I messed up his hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light kindles the hills

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to This-is-teal for firm yet tactful beta, and reminding me that commas are not the only punctuation available. Man, did I ever need that reminder.

He heard Fraser’s voice in the station hallway hours before he was even meant to leave for the airport. There was a buzz of conversation, everyone sounding excited to see him. Ray froze at his desk as the chatter reached the doors, and spilled through with Fraser at the centre of a knot of people, looking flustered and pleased.

He stopped dead when he saw Ray. Someone had to catch the door before it swung back and hit him, and Ray couldn’t move for a second because there was Fraser like he’d never been away. He wasn’t meant to _be_ here till tonight. Ray was meant to be collecting him from the airport – Ray was meant to have time to _think_ before he showed up, time to work out what to say to him and how the hell he should act.

Ray had been turning it over and over in his mind. He’d imagined himself standing there at O’Hare, people who weren’t Fraser streaming past; watching that airport thing that always got to him, that moment when someone recognised the face they were looking for, people falling into each other’s arms right there in front of everyone. He’d been imagining that. Him and Fraser, like that. Only he didn’t think that was what they'd really do.

Last time he’d been at the airport was when he came back from Canada. He hadn’t slept for nearly a day, was numb with leaving Fraser – with _how_ he’d left Fraser. Of course there had been no-one there to meet him. He’d shouldered his way through the reunions head down, even envying those business guys who at least had a taxi driver to meet them. A stranger holding your name on a shiny card – it was still someone who knew who you were, right?

He’d been picturing variations on an airport scene ever since Fraser called with his flight time. He’d talked to Welsh then, asked for two days off so he could meet him and then – whatever came next. He knew he couldn’t just come in to work like everything was normal. Part of being good undercover was knowing your limits, knowing when you couldn’t keep the act going. Ray knew it was dead in the water for this, Fraser flying in just to see _him_. Even if he wasn’t undercover any more there were things they had to keep between the two of them. Welsh had looked hard at him for a second, and maybe seen how close he was to losing it, because he just said, “Okay, Kowalski. You got your two days. Let me know if you need more time than that, alright?”

Ray had tried to play puzzled, gave a whole body shrug of incomprehension like, _who sir, me, sir?_ “Why would I need more time?” he asked.

Welsh just looked at him. “No reason, detective. No reason at all,” he said.

So Ray knew then that Welsh knew all about him and Fraser, even though there wasn’t actually anything to know yet. 

Since then he’d been seeing the airport. Hearing flights announced on the PA, seeing himself standing there, watching people come out and waiting for one of them to be Fraser. He couldn’t stop thinking about Inuvik airport either. The hangar lights that didn’t reach them. The way Fraser had looked at him right before he left.

But now there was no time to think any more. Fraser was five hours early; he was _right there_ , in the bullpen in his civilian clothes and looking so happy to see Ray that Ray had never been so sure of anyone in his life. No-one had ever looked at him like that. Fraser’s face was the same as always, as clear as always, and Ray couldn’t believe he hadn’t known before. He should have been able to read everything in how Fraser looked at him.

For a second Ray was poised on the edge of the hubbub as they looked at each other, the length of the room between them. Then he was moving forward with a feeling like falling, and Fraser was smiling at him and he couldn’t even smile back because it was _too much_ right now, and then he had his arms around Fraser, hands fisted in his leather jacket; and Fraser was actually kind of crushing him and Ray had shut his eyes and he thought he couldn’t bear it if he ever let go.

But they had to let go eventually. They both stepped back to carry on looking at each other, but neither of them stepped far. Fraser was still right up in his space and Ray kept his hand hard on Fraser’s arm. He smelled just the same; Ray didn’t realise he’d ever noticed how Fraser smelled before, but now he knew that he had. Frannie and the desk sergeant and that Latina rookie and people Ray didn’t even _know_ were crowding them, asking questions about Canada and Ray knew he just had to get them out of there. He had to get them out right fucking now, before Fraser remembered his manners and started answering those questions. They had stuff to talk about, just the two of them, and Ray couldn’t wait any longer now he had Fraser right there, all blue-eyed and looking at him like that.

He tightened his grip on Fraser’s arm, announced without looking away from his face, “Ok I got him now. _My_ partner, I’m calling dibs, I’ll bring him back later. C’mon.”

He was already pulling Fraser away as he spoke, and Fraser went with him, in step with him all the way. Fraser’s hand was still on him too, he found, fingers digging in at his elbow. He heard Frannie as the door closed behind them, saying, “Yeah, come on you guys, they’re _partners_ , they need to catch up, you know?”

He couldn’t hear any more and he didn’t care; nobody followed. It was just him and Fraser. Fraser was in step with him, all solid muscle Ray could feel even through his jacket – they were going somewhere, where were they going? Fraser was taking up all the room Ray had set aside for _thinking_ and _good decisions_. He didn’t know how they’d got out here even though it was his words and his feet leading them. Everything was happening too fast; he didn’t know what he wanted. No, that wasn’t true, he _did_ know, but he didn’t know what to _say_. He had to think, he had to look at Fraser’s face again, he had to – it was _so good_ to see Fraser he couldn’t think now.

He wasn’t thinking. He said, “I gotta get – I gotta…” and his feet steered them into the empty locker room. Still Fraser went with him, let himself be pulled where Ray wanted him, let himself be pushed to the wall and then they were pressed together and Fraser’s arms were hard round him and – oh God Fraser’s mouth opened to his and they were kissing. Kissing hot and slick and this was _nothing_ like the airport, the airport wasn’t kissing at all, it didn’t change anything really because Ray had still gotten on that plane. But now everything was changing, Ray could feel it, his molecules were changing, the ground under his feet was changing, every place his body touched Fraser’s was changing. Because this was what he wanted, this was _who_ he wanted. Oh God. Oh God oh God what were they _doing_ , they couldn’t do this here, where anyone could walk in. But he couldn’t make himself stop, he _had_ to stop...

It was Fraser who broke the kiss, managing to put a bare inch of space between their faces, though if anybody walked in they might as well still be kissing for all the difference it made. He gasped, “Oh God, Ray, we have to – we have to get out of here - ”

He was right, Fraser was right, they had to get out of the station – Ray peeled himself away and tugged Fraser back out into the hall towards the street.

But now Fraser was stopping in confusion. “My hat, Ray,” Fraser said. “I dropped – I – did I drop my hat?”

Ray let him go for just the second it took to dive back into the locker room and snatch up the Stetson from the floor. He jammed it on his own head, grabbed hold of Fraser again and steered them urgently out of the building.

 

 

 

In the street Fraser still wasn’t resisting, wasn’t shaking Ray’s hand off as he pulled him along. But he was saying, “Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray -” until Ray stopped and looked at him in fierce joy because it seemed _so long_ since anyone had wanted his attention that badly.

Fraser smiled right at him. “Ray, where are we going?”

“I – uh, I have no idea. Uh. You wanna get – let’s get a cup of coffee, Frase. I wanna get a coffee with you.”

That was the least of what Ray wanted; that was only the beginning of all the things he wanted to do with Fraser. He had no idea why that was what had just come out of his mouth; everything seemed to be happening because it had to right now, without him deciding. Like he’d followed Fraser off a cliff.

“Okay,” Fraser said. His eyes were very blue and his hair was all messed up, how had his hair gotten all messed up? Oh God that was me, Ray realised: that was me. I kissed him and I messed up his hair.

Fraser reached up then, but he didn’t take his hat back. He just straightened it on Ray’s head. Then he curled his fingers in Ray’s sleeve again.

“Come on,” he said.

       

 

Ray thought they were looking at a done deal, after that. That they didn’t need the thinking he hadn’t done; the thinking that’d gotten Fraser back in Chicago was enough. But they had to let go of each other to go in the door of the coffee shop, and that seemed to break the spell. Ray had to say, _hi, how you doin’_ , to Donaldson from Vice who never came here, only there he was. They sat across from each other at the back and Fraser was terrified, Ray could see it. He wanted to take Fraser’s hand but he knew he couldn’t, and settled for tangling their legs together under the table. Fraser met his eyes for that, returned the warm pressure with his knee. He leaned forward.

“Ray, what are we _doing_? Have you thought about this?” There was a panicked rise to his voice.

“Oh yeah, you better believe I’ve thought about it. Have _you_ thought about this? Or are we still doing, you know, not thinking about stuff?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it! I’ve thought about it _extensively_! Half the population of Inuvik asks me about you on a daily basis, and I’ve been on three long wilderness patrols since you left. You’d be surprised how much thinking a man can do with just a wolf and the horizon for company.”

Ray wasn’t surprised, but the idea that Fraser could mean the kind of thinking that lead to kissing him in the locker room made him squirm in his seat. But Fraser hadn’t finished.

“But I’m only here for three days, Ray. And I don’t fully understand why I’m here at all; I don’t know what I was thinking, because there’s nothing we can do about the circumstances we find ourselves in! I live _there_ now, I went home, and you’re here…”

“Yeah, I am right now. But I’m not like a – a – a fish or something, that can’t survive outside its tank. I don’t _have_ to be here,” Ray retorted.

Fraser looked at him helplessly.

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Well, I get that we all have to live with wanting things that we can’t have, Ray. I’m perfectly well aware of that, believe you me.” Oh yeah, Ray believed him alright. Fraser was the fucking poster boy for living with wanting things he didn’t have.

“And this,” he waved his hand in Ray’s direction to indicate – what? Partnership? Friendship? All the complicated _more_ that was sitting on the table between them and that now included kissing in locker rooms? “This is something I can’t have, so let’s not…dwell on the unobtainable.”

Ray narrowed his eyes at him. “Ok, fine, no dwelling. I am with you all the way on not dwelling. But just for the record, can we be clear what is so unobtainable here? What it is that you want and can’t have?”

Fraser looked pained, looked away as if the script to see him through this would appear on the wall.

“Well. Well. I enjoyed my time in Chicago very much – I learned a lot; I like to think in some small way I made a contribution here… But I _do_ want to be at home now, in Canada. In the Northwest Territories, to be precise.” He paused, and Ray made an expansive, yeah, this is not new information, keep it moving, gesture at him. Not that he blamed Fraser for starting with the easy part, but he could see things slowing down once he got past the geography.

“And I’ve come to realise that I also want – I also want - ” he rubbed unhappily at his eyebrow and then looked right into Ray’s eyes. “I want you to be with me. I want you to be my partner, and – and I want you -” he stopped, like there ought to be another word and he was surprised at himself to be ending the sentence there. Then he rushed on. “So you see, there isn’t any point brooding over what we can’t have, is there?”

Ray could feel his heart beating faster, all his focus narrowed down to Fraser across the table with his hands laced awkwardly in front of him.

“Yeah. Ok. That’s what I figured.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “You know what _I_ want?” Fraser looked up at him, shook his head. He did know, though. He knew the part to do with _him_ , even if he was trying to act like he didn’t.

Ray had said enough, all those phone calls, hadn’t he? Fraser _knew_ , of course he knew. Ray had said, _more, I meant it more, I meant it better_ – hadn’t that tipped them off the edge, set the scales swinging? He thought those the kind of words you couldn’t take back, no more pretending there was nothing there, that this was just partners, just buddies. But he was right back there again, tiptoes against the verge of changing everything. Wasn’t there a glass he could break that wouldn’t go back up again? He could break it, he could, because what did he have to lose anyway? They’d ended up half a continent apart when he _didn’t_ say anything; how could saying something be any worse than that?

Ray took a deep breath and reached out to touch the back of Fraser’s hand with the very tips of his fingers.

“I want you to come home with me. Now. And I want you to go to bed with me. That’s what I want.”

Fraser’s eyes widened like he couldn’t believe Ray had actually said it out loud. The airport, all those phone calls, the locker room 15 fucking minutes ago, and _saying_ where this was going was the shocking part? Well, maybe it was. But his hand turned anyway until Ray’s fingers were in his palm and they were sitting hand in hand.

Ray didn’t take his eyes off Fraser. “And then I know you gotta go back to Canada, and I want you to take me with you when you go. So. Yeah. That’s what I want, Frase.”

 

* * *

 

Afterwards Fraser didn’t let go of him. Held on tight; held him down almost. Like he thought Ray would try and leave. When he had Ray pinned to his satisfaction, he propped himself up on one elbow and looked anxiously down at him.

It was one of those things you learned growing up, that wanting to be held after was for chicks. Ray learned it. Learned he didn’t work like that, like guys worked, as soon as him and Stella did enough for there to be an _after_. He liked it then; missed it when going to bed with Stella turned angry and ended with one of them in the bathroom until the other could pretend to be asleep. Missed it as much as sex in those empty years when there wasn’t anyone and he didn’t know who he was, when he only touched other people to arrest them. Until Fraser showed up.

So now, now Ray liked Fraser holding on to him. Most of the time he gave a good show as the man who didn’t need anything because he already had a hat and a wolf. And maybe he didn’t need like Ray did, but he needed _something_. He hadn’t said what – he let Ray do all the talking for once, stuck to shell-shocked nodding. He’d let Ray take him to bed, start tugging his clothes off, before his body seemed to just…take over. He’d pushed Ray down on his back, kissing him hard, with the sort of ferocity Ray always _knew_ he had but never ever saw. Hands gripping Ray’s hair as Ray pulled him closer so they were touching _everywhere_ , so he could get his hands under Fraser’s Henley. Fraser pulled it right off, flung it away and was right back on him before Ray could even see his body properly.

But he didn’t care. He could feel him; Fraser was here with him, on him, in his bed, trying to get their pants undone without moving off of him. Managed it, too, after a moment. Needed Ray’s flexibility to get them properly undressed because he still wouldn’t let go, but when they finally had their hands on each other Ray knew he wasn’t going to last. This was too much, he was drowning in Fraser, in wanting Fraser, in having him, in warm skin tumbled against him.

He didn’t last, and nor did Fraser. They didn’t clean up and Fraser didn’t let go and Ray figured he could be the bigger man here, because holding out on Fraser right now, with his face looking like that, would just be fucking with him. There were better places for that word to go now than fucking _with_ each other. That was before: that was Fraser not asking; that was Ray kissing him angry and leaving; that was hours on the phone not quite saying it.

So now he held on to Fraser right back; pulled him in tighter. Ran fingers through his hair, whispered, “It’s ok, I got you, we’re ok,” into his ear. Tried to say _I won’t let you go, I’m going with you, I need you,_ with his hands and his arms and his lips and his whole body.

It was only mid-afternoon but they didn’t really get up again. Drifted into the kitchen to eat toast and soup out of a can, but Ray only pulled his shorts on for that. When he saw Fraser reaching for his pants to follow him, he said, “Hey, no, don’t get dressed, please don’t get dressed…” Fraser hesitated, then dropped them back on the floor with a self-conscious grin. They ate standing up, both of them in their underwear. As they finished he could feel Fraser looking at him without even lifting his head.

When he looked up Fraser blushed into his empty bowl, and Ray couldn’t just let him stand there like that. The space between them was a single step, then another step to press him against the cabinets and kiss him. Fraser’s hands moved over his back, settled with one tight round his waist, the other buried in his hair. But gently, like a question, like he was testing if Ray would shake him off.

“Yeah, go on,” Ray murmured against his mouth and Fraser made a questioning sound into the kiss.

“You can do that. Hold on to me. Anything, Frase, I mean it...”

And that made Fraser moan and flip them around so it was Ray with his back to the warm wood, all Fraser’s weight against him, Fraser’s hardness against his own. A roll of his hips and Ray was helplessly rocking back against him.

“Can we go back to bed?” asked Fraser, voice gone low. Ray had never heard him sound like that, never ever, had never believed he could really have Fraser mostly naked in his kitchen, kissing him into the wall and wanting to go back to bed with him at 4pm. It turned him on so fiercely he could barely get out an answer.

“Yeah, c’mon...” he managed, and they were stumbling back towards the bedroom without breaking the kiss. Ray didn’t care if they got there or not. He wanted to say, _you can do me right here, on the couch, on the damn floor, I don’t care, touch me._ But Fraser got them there, got them out of their shorts this time before his weight came down on Ray, pressing him into the bed. Then he was pulling back a little, mouth moving down Ray’s chest like he was tasting him. Ray almost couldn’t bear it when Fraser raised his head, all wide blue eyes and wild hair, then bent to take the tip of Ray’s cock into his mouth like asking permission.

Ray gasped out, “Oh, yeah, yeah...” and Fraser reached for his hand, raised it to his own head. Ray let his fingers sink into Fraser’s hair and almost had to close his eyes. But Fraser was only staying three days, and it had been years since anyone touched him like this, like they couldn’t believe it was him, like Fraser was doing now. So he had to watch.

He had to see Fraser’s eyes drift closed and his cheeks hollow, until it was too much. He let himself drop back to the bed and flung an arm over his face, trying to keep himself together for just a minute longer. It wasn’t just being turned on – although he _was_ , _God_ , he was – it was the months of longing. The ones he’d acknowledged and the ones he hadn’t, all slipping away into _having_. He thought for a second that maybe he was going to die of this huge feeling, almost a physical sensation under his ribs. It was because of Fraser here, now, when he’d wanted him so bad. He couldn’t believe it was true; Fraser sprawled in his bed, sucking his cock like it was all he wanted.

He tried to pull Fraser up when he knew he was seconds from coming. But Fraser stayed right where he was and Ray just fell apart.

He dimly heard his own voice saying, “Oh – I love you, _love_ you - ” and the kick of panic just made him come even harder into Fraser’s hot, sweet mouth.

Fraser eased him through it, didn’t pull away until the aftershocks had subsided and Ray was trying to breathe normally. He didn’t dare take his arm off his face until he felt Fraser shift to kiss his belly and his hard cock rubbed against Ray’s leg. He pulled Fraser down beside him then, meaning to slide down and get his mouth on Fraser in return even though it had been 20 years and he was terrified. He needed to make this good, the _best_ , to convince Fraser he couldn’t do without it, that he wanted to take Ray with him when he left. But the second he closed his hand around Fraser’s cock, he choked out a cry and started coming, hard, all over his belly and Ray’s fingers.

 

 

 

Fraser didn’t pin him down this time; but they lay facing each other, legs tangled together. Fraser’s hand was warm on his hip, keeping him close. He looked younger like this, vulnerable. Yeah, and he’s not the only one, thought Ray. For his own part he was terrified, like he’d lost a layer of skin and had no defences left against Fraser at all. Not that he wanted them – if there was anyone he could trust, it was Fraser – but God it was scaring him.

Fraser was watching him freak out. Which was only fair, he supposed. A couple hours ago it had been him watching Fraser freak out, letting him hold on for dear life and trying to tell him it was all going to be ok. And because they were partners, they watched out for each other, now Fraser was anchoring him with that hand and that clear blue gaze.

Fraser closed the gap between them and kissed Ray gently, for a long time. Then he pulled back again and looked at him. He licked at his lip and said quietly, “You know, I remember telling someone once that it’s easier to think that you’re in love than to accept that you’re alone.”

Ray thought about that for a second. “You think that’s what I’m doing?” he asked, just as quiet. He didn’t really think that was what Fraser meant, but he wanted to be sure.

“No. No, I think you’re...good at recognizing what you feel. I meant - ” he shut his eyes for a moment. “I meant I was wrong, when I said that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hm. Oh, maybe when you’re young it’s true enough. But as you get older, being alone becomes easier. You don’t have anything you might lose that way, do you?”

“Guess not, no.” Ray said. He knew something about losing, what with Stella and everything.

“But if you – if we - ” he cleared his throat. “There was something safe about you in Chicago and me up in Inuvik, wasn’t there?”

 “Yeah, I guess. But...I don’t really see _safe_ being so much your thing, in my experience. What with all the dangerous stuff you’re always doing. So if safe is what you’re after, I gotta tell you, you’re really going about it wrong.”

Fraser smiled and ran a finger across Ray’s eyebrow by way of agreement. Ray took a deep breath and willed his voice to come out right.

“Thing is, I do love you. You know that, right?”

Fraser squeezed his eyes shut again, held on to Ray more tightly. Heart thumping, Ray continued, “I mean, I love you like _this_. Not just like friends and that other stuff, you know?”

The pause felt endless. Then Fraser opened his eyes and nodded minutely. “Me too,” he said.

Ray let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Fraser was right. This wasn’t safe at all; this was risking everything. He had never done anything that scared him as much as this; as looking at Fraser from two inches away and waiting for him to say something. But it was good too. It was the actual greatest thing he’d ever felt, or it would be if he could just fix it so that they’d both be in the same country come Monday.

“So I’m going with you, ok? Back to Canada. So you don’t get bored up there with all the gun control and nothing dangerous to do.”

Fraser was smiling at him. “Are you volunteering to be my dangerous thing to do?”

Ray grinned right back at him. “Yes I am, my friend. Yes I am.”

“But what would you do up there? For a job, I mean,” he added. Oh yeah, Fraser knew innuendo when he heard it all right.

“Uh, well, when I was up with you before I got talking to that lady who does the community outreach, all that stuff with the kids going off the rails, you know? So I was telling her about the boxing thing, and this school gangs program I did before I was working with you, so she was emailing me when I got back about some stuff...”

Fraser was looking at him in frank surprise. He really hoped it wasn’t whoa-going-too-fast-back-off surprise, but it was too late to stop talking now.

“...yeah well I said maybe I wanted to come back up north, and so she wanted to talk to me about a job, and...”

“You’ve really thought about this,” Fraser said. He sounded pleased rather than freaked out.

“Well, yeah, duh, I _told_ you I’d thought about it. I wasn’t just hoping to live off you in exchange for sexual favors, you know.”

Fraser’s embarrassed smile broke out and his eyebrow quirked.

“Although, I don’t have anywhere to live, so if you could see your way to finding a bed for me to sleep in, I’d make it worth your while...” Ray added.

That made Fraser pull him in for a kiss which he guessed meant _yes_ , but he still had to ask.

“Is that ok with you? I mean, it’s your home so maybe you think it wouldn’t look so good, me living with you, plus I guess it’s kind of a big deal to just move in like that. Because I’m really messy, for a start, so I could...”

Fraser cut him off with his crooked-tooth smile. “You’re contemplating emigration and complete career change for my sake, and you’re worried I wouldn’t cope sharing a house with you?”

“Well, I’m a slob. I just think you oughta think about it before you agree to anything.”

“Ok, Ray. I’ll give it some thought.” Fraser said gravely, with his best straight face. It only occurred to Ray much much later that he knew exactly what Fraser meant when he talked like that. Maybe other people took him at face value, but Ray understood him perfectly now.

“Yeah. You do that.” Ray said, and something about those four words made Fraser roll on top of him and kiss him hard. In the back of his mind Ray managed to wonder what it had been so he could keep on doing it, but Fraser was _distracting_ him.

Fraser was still thinking, though – which was typical, but Ray was really feeling inclined to be forgiving.

“Do you really mean this? You seriously want to come with me? To Canada?”

“Yup.”

“Ray, are you _sure_? You don’t want to...come visit for a week and see how you feel?” Fraser was looking down at him intently, as if he was trying to read his feelings off his face.

“I _was_ visiting, and I was fucking miserable cos I knew I wasn’t staying. So, uh – no.” Ray told him, with every ounce of sincerity he had in him. He had never been more sure of anything in hislife _._

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m finding this pretty terrifying -”

“- I was getting that, yes,” Fraser said.

“Shut up. But terrifying seems way better than miserable, you know?” Ray finished.

“Mm. This is definitely better than miserable, yes,” Fraser said in a low rumble that seriously did things to Ray, and moved against him in an even more distracting way.

“So I can go with you?” he asked. He wanted to settle this while he could still think. He could feel Fraser getting hard again, and maybe it wasn’t fair to be asking him important life-decision questions right now, but Ray was going to take every advantage he could get.

“I – yes. Yes, of course you can come with me,” Fraser said, voice gone even lower. He started kissing Ray’s neck, just on his pulse, and Ray shivered under him.

“I can’t quite believe you _want_ to, but I’m going to be selfish and not try to talk you out of it,” he murmured into Ray’s throat with another rock of his hips.

Ray knew now what that feeling of exhilaration on the sled had been, up on the ice. It had been this all along; the wanting was behind everything reckless they did together, ever since they met. This was what he hadn’t let himself think about when the light faded and they crawled into the tent at night. This was what that burst of fear meant when Fraser looked at him across the fire.

So the best answer Ray could find now was to roll them over and plant a warm line of kisses down Fraser’s chest, and do something utterly terrifying.  But he was doing it with Fraser, and Fraser was his partner, and Ray trusted him. So he just trusted that it was all going to turn out all right. Everything was going to be all right.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The (pretentious?) titles for this series are all from different Anne Stevenson poems, where they sound much better. I ought to have made a note of which ones. Incidentally my mother once met Anne Stevenson at a dinner party, so if someone could remind me periodically never, ever to tell her that I debased this poet's work through fanfic that would be very kind.
> 
> And, uh, spelling. Despite the best efforts of my beta I bet some of this sounds British. But then depending which internet source you believe, some Canadian spelling and usage appears to be the same as British, so perhaps you could excuse anything that looks odd by pretending it is Canadian even if it isn't. If *you* are Canadian, I can only apologise and hope that all the hot actors and amazing TV your nation produces can make up for the liberties I have taken with your language, culture and geography. Sorry.
> 
> But look - happy ending!


End file.
